Long Way
(one)
Occasionally – usually when very drunk and being escorted back to his room - Haymitch Abernathy makes passes at Effie Trinket. It has become a game to him, to see how far he can push her before she snaps and walks away. He enjoys her annoyance; he likes to see that perfectly painted veneer shudder and crack, to see the real emotion boil in her pretty little Capitol blinkered eyes.
He shoves her forcibly against the wall, sliding one large hand up along her ribcage, pinning her with his hips. He can feel her heartbeats thrumming against the palm of his hand like a frightened rabbit. Half scared, half enraged, she wiggles against him to try and free herself. The movement feels good - soft and pliant, and he'd quite happily have her right there in the corridor.
He hisses, the sibilant sounds sliding around them both in the semi darkness.
"Want to come in for a nightcap, sweetheart?"
Stiletto heel meets shin and she's twisted out of his grasp and away. Her panicked, hitching breaths echo through his skull.
"I wouldn't touch you anyway you silly tart".
(two)
One night Effie Trinket comes back.
Haymitch opens the suite door, and she's there, a half empty bottle in one hand, lips stained red with wine. Before he can react she's inside, door slammed and locked in one swift moment.
Her kiss is hard and angry and demanding, fingers clawing at his shirt. She tastes of alcohol and regret. They make it as far as the living room before he bends her over the antique table. Buttons pop and silky fabric rips under his strength. He tears her precious Capitol clothing from her, taking pleasure at the flesh revealed.
She wears stockings and suspenders under the tight pencil skirt, and the image of her bent over so wantonly makes him crazy. As he thrusts into her his fingers curl into the ridiculous wig, tugging hard at the natural hair underneath. The moans fall from her lips unbidden.
"That's what you want is it, little slut? Want someone to tell you what to do for a change."
It is fast and messy and when its over they're both dazed. Effie is silent as she gathers the remains of her clothing together. Eyes studiously avoid one another – neither really want to face what's just happened.
Effie finds the discarded bottle of wine and downs the rest before leaving.
(three)
He fucking hates her, and her precious manners and scheduling, and the stupid clothes and her stupider face. She's perky and chipper and won't ever shut the hell up (unless he's kissing her).
(four)
She loathes him and his slovenly ways. He smells like he has not washed in days, and his fingernails are just disgusting (unless those big clever hands are on her body and then she's not complaining).
(five)
The screwing continues on a regular basis.
1/5 (hopefully) - please let me know what you think xx
